


Staring

by dakimakun



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dakimakun/pseuds/dakimakun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mizuchi thinks Asuka is really pretty.<br/>Like, really really pretty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staring

**Author's Note:**

> yeah first fic ? holy wow I'm pretty bad at writing these two but I figured someone had to write my femslash crackship  
> uhmmm originally intended to have implications of RyoBuki and EdoSai but. nah.  
> I hope you are ready for a rollercoaster of domesticity and bland writing because here we go

Mizuchi is not staring.

She is not, absolutely not looking at Asuka admire herself in her mirror, turning her hips and glancing over her shoulder at the strong curve of her legs. Mizuchi cannot help it- She has not ever gotten the opportunity to covet and admire something like her brother did. Truthfully, Mizuchi does not know how she came to be so close to Asuka. She hadn’t expected someone like herself to be so fortunate, to even be befriended by her after everything.

Mizuchi doesn’t feel that she doesn’t deserve it. She’s not nearly that self deprecating.

It’s just… interesting. Surprising.

“Does it look okay?” Asuka asks, turning. Mizuchi does not need to look up to already have ‘you look beautiful as always’ ready on her tongue, but she knows that Asuka wants an answer that is genuine, and that falling back on already knowing what the mirror reflected makes her uneasy. Purple eyes look up, taking Asuka in with a critical gaze, the one she likes, so she can feel she’s doing something worth her time.

“It looks lovely on you,” Mizuchi says, smiling softly. Asuka beams, her smile open and sweet, and Mizuchi feels glad that she has done that on her own. That her honesty made someone happy.

This was always so much simpler than she had been raised to believe.

Asuka turns back to the mirror, adjusting the wide collar of her sweater over her shoulders, brushing at her skirt so the ruffled hem flirts the top of her stockings. Mizuchi wishes she had learned how to dress like Asuka did, to flaunt what her friend (and several boys who later faced the wrath of her protective brother) insisted she had. Not that she needed the attention, for she had seen what it did to people who did not want it and she had already had enough of it before she was even in her double digits.  
She merely wishes she knew how, so that she wouldn’t feel so amateur in her lovely friend’s room, sitting delicately on the edge of Asuka’ bed with a too big sweater covering her up. At least she can hide her face in the collar when she blushes.

“You know,” Asuka says, and Mizuchi looks back up at her. “I think I might have something for you to wear too, if you want.”  
Mizuchi doesn’t ask how Asuka can just seem to pick up on what she’s thinking. Maybe she does that thing her brother does where her feelings gush out into her aura, or maybe it’s that ‘women’s intuition’ that Asuka talks about. Still, whatever it may be, Mizuchi is grateful that it is there so that she doesn’t have to express what she’s thinking.

Asuka takes her hand and pulls her to stand, and does not take note of how their delicate fingers trace the lines of each other’s palm. They are both blushing, but pay no mind to that either. They’ve always been a little red in the other’s presence.  
Asuka leads Mizuchi to her closet, which is stocked to capacity by her brother’s generosity. There is a mirror in the inside of the door, and Mizuchi is drawn to it, captivated unintentionally by the reflection of her own stare. That’s fine enough for Asuka- Best to have her new model stay still instead of fretting like her other friends did.

Mizuchi smiles to herself, listening to Asuka card through hangers full of clothes with brand names she couldn’t have ever expected to even get to touch the price tag of ten years ago, mumbling to herself about how Mizuchi probably ‘wasn’t the sort to wear Prada’ or that she ‘probably doesn’t like Armani’. Asuka would know best- Mizuchi was probably almost as sartorially impaired as her brother.  
_Almost_.

She feels Asuka behind her suddenly, an arm tossing a black dress over her front, and with the other hand, stretching the hem of the skirt out. Mizuchi is surprised with wide purple eyes taking in the sight of herself and Asuka’s near embrace around her.  
She feels… pretty.

“You’d look gorgeous in this!” she hears Asuka chirp behind her, and she is so close that Mizuchi can feel her breath on her skin at the part where her jaw meets her neck, and she does not think but spins around, pressing her back to the mirror and clamping a hand down on where she felt Asuka breathe, and she is red, bright red and wide eyed like some sort of trapped animal, some pure forest creature never meant to be caught in the hold of a beautiful maiden.

But here she is, and Asuka is still so close to her, and her hands haven’t moved.

It is five seconds, five minutes, or five hours that they stand there.  
Mizuchi is not staring.  
She is not letting her gaze keep dropping to Asuka’s lips, her own parted. They share a glance, intense and strong and delicate as they both are.  
Mizuchi has never been kissed before and Asuka does not expect her to have. The dress falls to the floor and Asuka’s hands move to Mizuchi’s neck, down her arms and take her hands. They pull back once or twice but only to catch their breath, and maybe it is the excitement of it, something telling them that this is improper, but their hearts beat hard in their chests. Mizuchi makes a sound, her hands tangling in Asuka’s hair when she finds herself backed up against the mirror more- not forcefully, no, Asuka wouldn’t do that- and she can feel their chests pressed together, soft under their sweaters and one of them squirms just a little, and Mizuchi must pull away first, the back of her head hitting the mirror with a dull thud. She looks away, a hand over her mouth and looking utterly at war with herself.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Asuka says quietly, taking a step back and letting her hands fall to her sides. Mizuchi shakes her head, eyes shut and taking in a deep breath.

“I wanted you to,” she says, in a near whisper, like she is admitting it to herself. She will not be like her brother in this situation, will not dance around the subject for propriety’s sake. She must state her mind. Asuka wouldn’t… Wouldn’t treat her badly for it, would she?  
“I have wanted you to for a while… _I_ have wanted to. I just… was not sure what might happen after.”

She feels knuckles trace the curve of her cheek and she looks back at Asuka, who is smiling in a way that reaches her bright amber eyes.

“We’ll take it slow then, okay?” she says, and kisses where her hand was.  
Mizuchi nods, and smiles too.


End file.
